The Longest Sleep
by Phx
Summary: A horrific event leaves one Hardy boy in a coma while the other has been changed forever. Six years later, Frank Hardy has finally been able to put behind him what happened that horrible day… but for Joe it happened only yesterday...
1. Chapter 1

_This story has no basis in medical reality. It was merely a scenario that I had thought up and wanted to see played out. I guess a Twilight Zone type situation but I hope you'll enjoy it as well. The story starts out when the boys are young but quickly jumps to canon ages. It is quick moving and takes place over 8 chapters. Let me know what you think._

_Originally posted under the penname Mellon, here it is… the longest sleep._

_Warnings: this story contains mature themes and, while not graphic, remembered violence against a minor. Not appropriate for sensitive or under-aged readers.  
_

**The Longest Sleep**

**Chapter 1**

The two children rode side by side enjoying the last day of summer to the fullest. They had just reached a part of the road where there were no houses for a block, just shrubs and trees on both sides of the road.

11-year-old Joe Hardy hated this part of the ride home. Not because of the remoteness of the area, but because it was the one section of their chosen path, where they had to ride on the road… and he hated riding on the road. He found it very nerve wrecking to have to have to remember to be extra careful about looking out for cars.

Riding just ahead of him was his older brother, Frank. At 12, Frank Hardy was already a handsome boy with dark hair and warm dark eyes, and as he glanced back to remind his brother to watch out for cars, a spike of terror shot through his heart.

Almost on top of the younger boy was a dark blue van with tinted windows!

"Joe!" Frank cried as he slammed on his brakes and swerved to the side of the road. Joe heard his brother's voice and instantly looked behind him – but there was nothing he could do.

The front end of the van clipped the rear wheel of the child's bike and he was thrown from it and onto the dark pavement.

Screaming, Frank jumped from his bike and raced towards his still brother just as the van slammed on its brakes and fishtailed to a stop a few feet ahead of him.

"You killed him!" the older boy yelled, as all he could see was the quickly pooling blood beside his brother. But before he could find out if Joe was dead or not, a man had crossed the distance from the van to the boys, and before Frank knew what was happening, he was grabbed by the man and dragged towards the waiting vehicle.

Struggling, the boy tried to keep from panicking but it was hard to do, especially when a second man opened the door and pulled him into the side.

"Shut up brat", Frank heard one of the men growl, but that just made him fight harder. But the guy who had grabbed him, was just too strong and there was nothing he could do. Waves of fear overwhelmed him and he started to scream again, as he fought with the hands holding him down. But it was no use and as the van pulled away from the curve, there was no one to hear his screams.

------

Life had become hell for Frank. He no longer even wondered if his brother was still alive. All he knew was that he wished he were dead.

When the man finally finished with him, he was beyond pain. All he wanted to do was curl up somewhere and die. The darkness around him was no longer on the outside. It was inside him as well.

He didn't even protest when they bound, gagged and then stuffed him inside a big black garbage bag.

_That's all I am now, _he despaired, _garbage. _

Closing his eyes, he waited for the inevitable. The end. But fate had other plans for him, and he was surprised when suddenly light shone into his world, and then he heard warm words and felt gentle hands pulling him from his prison.

He had been found.

------

Numbly Frank sat in the chair and watched the sleeping form in the hospital bed. It was Joe and he knew that something was wrong with him, but right now he couldn't focus on anything outside himself and so he just sat and waited.

He really just wanted to go home, take a hot scalding shower and go to bed.

Frank watched as his parents hovered over his brother while casting him with looks of worried sympathy. They didn't have the words to comfort him or to take away what had happened and he rebuffed their attempts at making him feel better.

Nothing would ever make him feel better.

Finally his father, private investigator Fenton Hardy, stood up and smiled, "Come on son, let's get you home."

Like someone sleep walking, Frank stood up and followed his father out the door, without even casting a glance back.

------

Fenton didn't say anything. He really had no idea how to help his older son except by being there for him and he was insanely pleased that the child hadn't shirked from him when he offered to take him home.

Inwardly, he was terrified that his son would be afraid of him but Frank just followed quietly, a shadow of his normal self.

The doctor had made arrangements for the Frank to see a counselor in the morning, after he'd had a good nights' sleep. They'd wanted to keep him in overnight but Frank wouldn't hear of it. He wanted to go home.

So after they ran some tests to make sure the man who had hurt him, hadn't infected him with anything, they said the determined youngster could go home.

They told Frank he was very lucky. Somehow Fenton doubted his broken child felt lucky at all.

The detective resolved to catch his sons assailants and held hope that Joe might be able to give them some more details if he regained consciousness – Fenton corrected himself - _when_ he regained consciousness. He was not ready to give up that easily; although he was more worried that if Joe didn't wake up, they would have lost more then just his younger son that night…

Frank was changed.

Nothing was ever going to be the same for him.

------

Three days later, Frank finally looked around and wondered for the first time why Joe hadn't come home yet.

He had resisted all attempts to go to the hospital to see his brother as all he wanted to do was stay home; begrudgedly he hurried the short distances between it, the car and the therapist's office. But after three days, as the haze of pain and shock started to lift, Frank suddenly wondered how Joe was.

Going downstairs, he was surprised to hear soft crying coming from the kitchen and pushing open the door between the living room and the kitchen, he saw his mother sitting at the table with her head in her hands, sobbing brokenly.

"Mom?" he asked tentatively, his voice thin and small sounding. Laura Hardy raised her head and tried to hide her tears, but he saw through her and reached out with a hand to touch the wetness on her face even as he pressed, "What's wrong?"

Holding his hand against her cheek, she closed her eyes, "Nothing sweetie. How are you feeling, baby?"

"Okay", Frank said, deciding that was as close to the truth as he could go, and then asked, "Mom, why isn't Joe home yet?"

Opening her blue eyes, Laura turned away from her son as fresh tears tracked her cheeks. Choking back a sob, she tried to think of the best way to tell this to her oldest son. He had already been through too much… lost too much… she loathed to tell him. But he needed to know.

"Frank… son…" she started and found it very hard to hold the gaze of the intense brown eyes that watched her very carefully, "Joe was hurt very badly when the van struck him…"

Frank closed his eyes as for one brief second he remembered that too vividly. But over laying his own memory of the accident, and of seeing his brother on the pavement, was the knowledge of what had happened after that.

"How badly?" he finally asked and held his breath without even realizing it; and then letting out a little at a time as his mother listed off his brother's injuries.

"A broken leg, shattered pelvis, broken ribs, sprained wrist…" Laura stopped for a second, surprised by her own reaction as she listed off her younger son's injuries. This was the first time she had vocalized the full list, "but that's not the worst. Son, your brother's skull was fractured… and… and…" she sobbed, "his brain's been hurt."

"What?" Frank was shocked to find himself getting upset… well angry really. It wasn't bad enough what that man did to him – he was mixed up and it hurt, but he was smart enough to know that in time he would get past it… but they had hurt his brother's brain.

Brain damaged.

That was permanent.

"Oh honey, try not to get upset", Laura said as she saw the growing anger written so clearly on the face of her normally coolheaded son.

"What kind of damage?" the 12-year-old needed to know. Laura hung her head and looked at her hands as she said softly, "We don't know yet, Frank. Joe hasn't woken up yet."

"Its' been four days", Frank said in disbelief, "When's he going to wake up?"

"We don't know", his mother admitted, "the doctor's don't think he ever will. It's not looking good." And that was why she had been crying. The doctors had sat her and Fenton down, and told them point blank, that they needed to think about long term care for Joe. There were no signs of neurological activity in Joe's brain and they were ready to declare him brain dead.

Frank was in shock, "I need to see him." It finally got through to him and he pushed away his own pain. He needed to see Joe. It couldn't be true. It couldn't.

"His body is still alive, "his mother said, "it is breathing… but he will never wake up."

------

For the next six years, Frank was haunted by that prognosis, and night after night his dreams were haunted more by his mother's words then even by what had happened to him.

Joe had been moved from the hospital a month after being struck by Frank's assailants. Laura refused to hear of her son being put in a long-term facility and had him moved home instead.

She quit her job and spent her time taking care of her growing son. It was hard on the family but they did the best they could.

In the beginning, Frank spent a lot of time in Joe's room – in too much shock to believe the truth.

He watched as his brother slowly healed from the accident, until at times he appeared to be just sleeping. But then his mother would come in with the feeding tube or to change his catheter, and Frank was reminded of how real this was.

Their father buried himself in his work, obsessed with finding the men who did this… but finding nothing. He was seldom home and when he was, he spent his time in the office, refusing to look upon the son he felt he had failed.

Slowly over the years, the routine was established and slowly, as Frank managed to put behind him what had happened that last day of summer, he started to spend less and less time in his brother's room.

Until it started to be easier for him to by pass the door then to go in. His mother needed his help sometimes turning Joe, so he wouldn't get bedsores, or to change the sheets, but that was about the only he time he went into that room now.

And over the house hung an invisible shroud of mourning. Frank felt like his home was the host of a wake that never ended. A wake for his brother.

His friends never came over. It was just too creepy knowing that Joe was lying like that upstairs. All silent and still as death.

But Joe Hardy was not dead.

And six years later… almost to the day, brilliant blue eyes opened slowly and looked around the room blurrily. He lay in the bed and tried to make sense of it all. It was his room… but it wasn't. Slowly he tried to raise himself up off the bed but found he was too weak to move. So he lay back down to gather his strength.

He could hear the sound of the vacuum cleaner on downstairs and figured it was Monday. His mother usually did the vacuuming on Mondays and Thursdays… but it didn't feel like a Thursday.

Glancing at the nightstand, his eyes caught sight of his arm and he stared at in shock, w_hat was this_?

Instead of the smooth, clear skin of an 11 year old, this arm was bigger… and had hair!

Feeling whatever color was in his face, draining away, Joe cautiously lifted the blanket and stared down at the body that was in his bed.

And then he screamed!

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for your wonderful support of this story. Like I said, there isn't any basis in medical reality for what has happened, it was just an idea I wanted to try out. _

**The Longest Sleep**

**Chapter 2**

"Well how is he?" Fenton Hardy demanded, four hours later, after Joe had been admitted to Bayport Memorial for a complete battery of tests.

And except for being weak from muscle apathy, the teenager was in surprisingly good health – a testimony to the remarkable care his mother, Laura, had taken of her son while he was in the coma.

"As good as any confused little boy can be after waking up in a 17-year-old body, "the doctor smiled sadly, "I've given him a sedative and I've asked Dr. Francis, one of the staff psychologists, to be there when he wakes up. I feel Joe is going to need some help… well actually… a lot of help when the sedative wears off."

The doctor paused, "I was hesitant to sedate him of course, since he only just regained consciousness, however he was too distraught, and that was posing a bigger risk then the drug would at this point."

"So what happens now?" Laura asked.

Dr. Bates, their long time family doctor and friend, replied, "He'll undergo extensive physical and occupational therapy, as well as counseling. Hopefully over the next six weeks, Joe will adapt both mentally and physically to being back with us."

"Six weeks?" Laura said incredulously, hardly wanting to imagine Joe being away from home that long.

Dr. Bates smiled gently at her, "It could take longer depending on Joe. This is made all that much harder because in his mind he is still only 11 years old. So he will be looking at life by the limitations he was used to. And I think Joe will find it an adjustment just to be in control of a teenager's body."

Both Fenton and Laura agreed sadly, and then Dr. Bates asked, "Where is Frank?"

------

18-year-old Frank Hardy lay on his towel and marveled at the beauty of the day. His closest friends, Chet Morton, Phil Cohen and Tony Prito were still swimming in the chilly lake waters but Frank had pulled himself out early to just laze around on the towel, and mourn the end of another long hot Bayport summer.

He and his three friends had been camping for the last two weeks after having earned the time off from working hard all summer. Tony worked at his family's pizza parlor, Mr. Pizza's, while Phil Cohen helped his dad out at the small electronics store the Cohen's had in the mall. Chet worked with his father on the family dairy farm, and helped Frank out whenever he could.

Frank, following in his own father's footsteps, had worked for his father's detective agency as a 'legman'. He did all the grunt work for his father and Sam Radley, the other detective who worked in the agency.

He wished his father would let him cut his teeth on a case or two of his own, but so far Fenton was reluctant to and Frank didn't press to hard. All he had to do was go upstairs to the room next to his, in their family home, to see why.

Thinking about his little brother sent a cold chill down Frank's spine. And shuddering, he hurriedly pushed all thoughts of Joe away.

"Hey Hardy", Chet called out as he lazily floated on his back near the edge of the lake, "what time is it?"

Frank glanced down at his watch and was disturbed to see it was already time to go back. The tents and camping gear had already been stowed away in Chet's truck, and they had been putting off actually leaving for as long as they could.

No one really wanted to go home yet.

Chet knew he'd have a mountain of chores; Tony would go back to work; Phil to an empty house as it was just him and his Dad and his father was a workaholic; and Frank – well Frank's house was never empty, but it was sure as hell lonely.

His mother insisted that someone always be at home, as she did not like the idea of Joe being there by himself. And to be honest, Frank hated it when it was his turn to be the one left at home… with Joe.

With respect to his brother, Frank had shut down years ago. It was the only way he could see that still, comatose body and not lose his mind. So he buried Joe and shut him out.

His friends understood this and never asked. They had lost a friend too that day and they would do whatever was necessary to keep the remaining brother they had left… _well almost all of the friends understood…_

Standing up, Frank called out to the other three 'fish' still in the lake, "We need to go now if we want to be home before dark."

------

"Mom! Dad! I'm home!" Frank yelled as he dumped his camping equipment in the garage and headed into the house.

He was surprised to see the house shrouded in darkness because his Mom usually kept at least one light on.

The boys had gotten delayed by Chet at an all-you-can-eat buffet they had spotted on the side of the highway, and it was after dark when Frank was finally dropped off.

"You hoo! Anyone home?" _of course there is_, a creepy little voice in the back of his mind tormented, _your brother is… he's always here_….

Pushing that thought away, Frank headed upstairs, "Mom?" He looked in his parents room, half expecting them to be asleep but the room was empty.

Stifling a sigh, the teenager decided there was one more place to look – _the morgue_, he thought bitterly.

With great reluctance, the dark haired youth pushed open the door to his brother's room and then stared in shock.

For the first time, in almost six years, Joe's room was empty!

His brother was not in his bed!

Frank stood there shaking, as possible scenarios flashed across his mind; the basis for them all being that something had happened to Joe. And then the older boy was shocked by his thought, _finally… now maybe we'll __all__ be able to move on_.

Frank Hardy would have never thought, in a million years… well until this exact moment, that he'd ever hope his brother might finally be dead. But now he did. He was tired of watching a corpse for the last six years.

Shaken by this sudden personal revelation, the dark haired boy turned off the light in Joe's room and headed downstairs. He needed a coffee.

Turning on the light in the kitchen, Frank saw a hurriedly scribbled note stuck to the fridge.

FRANK – COME TO THE HOSPITAL ASAP. WILL EXPLAIN WHEN YOU GET HERE. MOM XOXO

The boy stared at the note for a long time before he went back to making his coffee. Then he sat at the table and sipped it.

His mind whirled with too many images and emotions; each one ended with Joe lying so still and pale in his bed.

"I don't want my brother back… not like that", he said bitterly, "he should have died that day… I did."

When his coffee was finally drunk, Frank grabbed the car keys to his convertible and drove to the hospital.

------

By the time he got to the hospital, Frank thought he was prepared for anything his parents told him. But he wasn't.

"He's awake!" Laura Hardy gushed as soon as she saw the tall, handsome dark haired young man walking down the hallway towards her.

"What?" Frank's voice was laced with shock and his mother laughed at the look on his face as she hugged him tightly, "Joe! Your brother! He's awake!"

_Now I know I'm dreaming_, Frank thought as he felt his mother grab his arm and drag him towards an open doorway.

Frank felt all the color drain from his face as the person on the bed turned towards him and Frank saw the most vibrant blue eyes regard him warily… eyes he thought he would never see again –

And then Frank turned and bolted from the room.

------

Joe wanted Frank.

From the moment he woke up in a stranger's body, to parents who reminded him more of his grandparents then anything else, he wanted his brother.

Frank was his pillar – he was the one who kept Joe's fears at bay or comforted him after a nightmare, so right now he needed his brother desperately.

When Frank wasn't there, Joe had pretty much become hysterical and it was only when Dr. Bates had given him a sedative that he'd calmed down. But now, once again, he wanted his brother.

Joe had never been more terrified in his life as he couldn't figure out whether he was in a nightmare, or if he was the victim of aliens, who stole his real body and left him trapped in some stranger's body – anything was possible in an 11 year old mind.

Dr. Francis had talked to him for a long time once the sedation wore off and although Joe thought he understood… he wasn't so sure if he believed.

Aliens and nightmares were preferable to what the psychologist was offering – a six year coma?

_What is that, _Joe wondered absently, _some kind of record for the longest sleep?_

The familiar strangers, he was told, were his mom and dad. And as he saw their haggard faces, he wondered if he'd put those lines there. He was very confused and he kept staring down at the hands and arms that didn't belong to him… but he was told were his.

"Frank?" he asked once again, in a voice that scared him. It wasn't too bad, but it still hurt to talk as his vocal chords and mouth were being asked to perform once again… _but the voice wasn't his._

His father had smiled gently at him, "he'll be here soon Joe. He went camping with Chet, Tony and Phil."

Joe frowned, "Who's Phil?" While he knew both Chet and Tony, he didn't' recognize the name 'Phil.'

"Oh that's right, "his mother said, "Phil Cohen is Frank's best friend. He moved here about five years ago."

"Oh", Joe said suddenly not feeling very well at all. Maybe this was real, after all.

"Are you okay?" Laura asked, her concern peaked by how pale Joe had suddenly gone.

The teen shook his head as he fought with himself – _men don't cry… men don't cry_… but then as the 11-year old looked down at his hands, his shoulders shook… _men don't cry but little boys do._

Laura sat on the bed and held her son as he cried. And when he'd finally settled down enough to let her go, she got up, "I'll call home and see if Frank's there."

Her heart ached for the little boy sitting in front of her. She knew he wanted his big brother here – more then wanted, he needed him here… desperately. And then when she had seen Frank in the hallway, her relief was boundless.

But then Frank had taken one look at Joe and ran away.

tbc


	3. Chapter 3

_Again, thank you so much for your wonderful support of this story. I hope you continue to enjoy!_

**The Longest Sleep**

**Chapter 3**

Joe stared in shock at the retreating figure. _Frank? _

_No! This was too real… way too real! _

His brother was gone. Like the mom and dad he knew, Frank had been replaced by an older stranger… a stranger who ran away from him.

The boy started to shake, his blue eyes wide and lost looking – _this couldn't be happening_…NO!

------

Fenton watched helplessly as Laura tried to console their younger son. He wanted to go after Frank as he'd seen the look of horror on the young man's face, but then Joe started screaming and wildly thrashing and Fenton needed to stay and help restrain him first.

Finally Joe was given another sedative and was dragged back to the darkness of sleep.

_Oh my god_, Fenton thought as he stepped away from his drugged son, _did we pray for him to wake up just so we could keep putting him back to sleep?_

And then he shook his head and hurried out of the room and after Frank.

------

Frank raced through the hallway, down the stairs and out the front of the hospital, his heart pounding, his head spinning. Bile rose in the back of his throat as his stomach churned; he'd never felt so sick before in his life.

Dropping to his knees behind some bushes, Frank threw up. It was only when he was sure he'd puked up his shoes too that he finally crouched back and hugged his knees to his chest tightly.

_Oh God… _

Frank had no idea how he was supposed to feel about all this, about his brother suddenly being awake again; which was probably a good thing since he had no idea how he _was _feeling. His mind kept throwing images of him always ending up in the same place, the horrid day six years ago.

Frank had worked hard to put what happened that day behind him and now –

Now… he just didn't know anything anymore.

How long he sat there, Frank wasn't sure but when he saw his father standing on the steps behind him, he finally got up and went over to stand beside him.

Neither spoke, they just stood together.

------

Fenton would have loved to have held and comforted his older son but he made no attempt. Frank hated physical contact and was not one to show his emotions openly.

Some of that, his father knew, had to do with what had happened to him, but a lot of it had to do with his own personality and was a part of him even before the attack.

Frank had always been more reserved than and never as demonstrative as his younger son.

Thinking of Joe made Fenton sigh and he said quietly, after a long silence, "You know, I kept praying that this would happen… that your brother would just open his eyes one day and come back to us."

Frank didn't say anything and Fenton continued, "But I never dreamed it would really happen… And now that it has, I'm not so sure what to do or how I should be feeling." He sighed and then admitted something he'd hardly ever acknowledged to himself. "To be honest, I'd already buried Joe a long time ago…"

The youth stared at his father and Fenton shifted uncomfortably. Maybe he'd been a little honest but before he could say anything else, Frank sighed himself and then made his own admittance.

"Dad," the young man looked so young it made his father's heart ache. "I stopped praying for…for Joe to wake up a long time ago."

Fenton was only mildly surprised. He was more saddened than anything else as he thought about how close his boys had been. But it made sense. Joe's awakening would also reawaken some of the pain Frank had worked so hard to put behind him. Particularly as they would need to question Joe about what he saw – _if he even remembered_. And then Fenton was sure Joe would want to know what happened afterwards… after he had been struck by the van.

And as if reading his mind, Frank added softly, "I don't want him to know…"

"Frank – " Fenton started but his son cut him off, "No Dad, it took me a long time to make people stop looking at me like I've got three heads… and sometimes there are people who still do… I couldn't handle it if Joe started doing that too. I don't want his pity… or to watch him tip-toeing around me." His dark eyes implored his father's understanding, "Please."

Fenton exhaled loudly, but then nodded slowly, "Okay Frank if that is what you really want, we won't say anything for now." He watched his older son carefully, "but I have to remind you that its Joe up there, not some distant stranger, but your little brother and we both know he's going to want answers. Probably not right away but eventually once he gets settled. There is going to be some adjustment issues."

------

Frank felt sick again. His father was right. Joe was going to want to know. But how was he going to feel about it? Would he look at Frank differently? _Would he even care?_

Incredible feelings of sadness and betrayal threatened to overwhelm him as he thought about Joe. Frank had missed his brother dearly in the beginning but it was a feeling he had been forced to put away because it hurt too much otherwise. Losing Joe had been even more painful then working through his feelings about the assault and Frank was terrified to just open his arms and welcome his brother back.

Joe had abandoned and hurt Frank terribly. No, not intentionally but still Joe had hurt him. The older teen knew it was unreasonable but he still felt betrayed because… well, because his brother never woke up.

He _slept_ through all of Frank's pain and nightmares. And now when the 18-year-old had finally gotten it all together and was moving forward and had a future he was looking towards, Joe had woken up.

And Frank resented him for it while hating himself for feeling that way. But he didn't know how else to feel and it made worse by the knowledge that there was no avoiding this. His brother was back with them now so Frank was just going to have to learn to deal… again.

------

Trying to be better prepared this time, Frank followed his father back up into the hospital. He just had to keep his surging emotions behind a mask of indifference and everything would be okay.

Joe was unconscious when Frank went back in and at first he was alarmed but his mother smiled weakly, "He's just sleeping. After you left he became a bit hysterical and Dr. Bates had him sedated again."

"It wasn't my fault", Frank said quickly, resenting that his mother implied his leaving had caused this. He couldn't let himself care – Joe had hurt him too badly before… it wasn't going to happen again.

------

"No, it wasn't", his mother said slowly, "I think him seeing a stranger instead of the brother he was expecting, did this." Laura carefully watched her older son as she spoke.

Dr. Francis had spoken to her and Fenton at length, and suggested counseling for the whole family. He had said it might be a good idea as this adjustment was going to be very stressful on them all. And watching Frank, she was certain that it would be a good idea even if she doubted he'd see it that way.

And true to her prediction as soon as she mentioned it to her older son, Frank shook his head, "Count me out. I've had my lifetime's quota of counseling, thank you."

Laura's heart ached as she watched her son struggle to sound aloof. After the attack, Frank had been in counseling for over three years so she'd suspected the idea would be a sore point for him. Even if he understood better than anyone just how beneficial it would be.

And then a movement from the bed interrupted them as Joe opened his eyes and looked at the three people in his room until finally his gaze landed and stayed on Frank.

------

Frank felt his brother size him up for a few moments before the blond teen sighed out tiredly, "So much for the idea that this is all a dream, huh?" His vibrant blue eyes locked onto Frank's briefly before the older boy turned away unable to hold up under their intense scrutiny. Joe added softly, "You've gotten taller."

Frank didn't say anything. His heart was aching but he was emotionally frozen. He knew this kid. He'd recognized Joe the instant the younger Hardy had looked in him the eye. And he knew now as he had known then exactly what Joe needed from him –

But he couldn't do it.

He couldn't go back there; to a time when he had all the answers for Joe and could slay all his brother's dragons…

Not anymore. Not when his own monsters ate dragons for breakfast.

So instead Frank just said, "It's late. I'm going to go home to get some sleep now." Then doing a final quick glimpse at the person in the bed, he swallowed hard and added, "Its' nice seeing you again."

And then he left.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

_Again thank you for the wonderful reviews and I am sorry for not responding to everyone personally but I have been sick and miserable and haven't been able to do much – hence the delay in posting. I hope you continue to enjoy the story. We are halfway through now._

**The Longest Sleep**

**Chapter 4**

The next six weeks were the hardest in Joe's life. He went through extensive physical and occupational therapy and impressed everyone with the single-minded energy he put into his rehabilitation.

Joe knew something was very wrong and he was determined to find out what. And he needed to go home to do it. The only thing he did know for sure was at the center of it all was Frank.

The blond boy hardly ever saw his brother and when Frank did come to the hospital, he was very cold and indifferent and Joe was still haunted by what happened the first day, his brother's dismissive, "_it's nice seeing you again." _

_I might as well have been an old acquaintance instead of his brother_, Joe sulked one day after a particularly hard workout. He finished peeling an orange and sucked on a section.

Naturally intuitive, Joe had picked up on his brother's reservations towards him and by the time he was ready to go home he was sure of one thing. Frank hated him.

_Fine, _the younger boy thought, _if that's the way he wants to be… I don't need him anyway!_ But even as he was thinking it, Joe knew it wasn't true. In truth he needed Frank so intensely that it was what drove his rehabilitation – when Joe was working out, it gave him something to focus on.

And in the back of his mind, he kept thinking that somehow he had let Frank down and maybe he could do something to make him proud of Joe again. So Joe kept pushing himself – and six weeks later, when Dr. Bates was ready to discharge him, the youth was impressed at his new body and decided that maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all.

Joe had put on quite a bit of muscle, and as he brushed his honey blond hair out of his blue eyes, he sized himself up for the first time and decided he didn't look too bad at all.

_In fact_, he mused, flexing a muscled bicep, _I'm pretty buff_!

The teen flashed a bright smile at his reflection and then sighed. The only thing that didn't fit was the look in his eyes. _They don't look right for his body_, he thought but couldn't explain it any further.

Joe was still pretty pale but seeing that he had hardly been outdoors in six years, that wasn't too surprising.

His parents had given him sunglasses to wear and he put them on and then looked once again at the reflection in the mirror. Now it fit. He looked every bit a confident, handsome young man – _too bad_, Joe thought as he reached for sun lotion, _I don't really feel it at all. _

Dr. Bates had cautioned Joe that he should use sunscreen everyday until his skin got used to being outside again. He'd be at increased risk to the elements – sun or wind - right now.

_Hmmm_, thought Joe as he spread some lotion on his face, _smells like coconuts_.

"Joe honey, are you ready?" his mom called out, "Your father is downstairs in the car."

Joe didn't bother to ask if Frank was there. He wouldn't be.

Actually Joe had not seen Frank in about two weeks now. He was either at school or doing something for school, and didn't have time to drop in. Their mother made a ton of excuses for his brother and Joe always just smiled, nodded and said he understood; which he did. Frank hated him so it only made sense that he didn't want to come to the hospital.

As the blond teen sighed and pocketed the sunscreen, he wondered if things would be different when he got home and Frank saw how hard he had worked, or how good he was looking now. Joe hoped so because he really missed his brother.

------

Frank sat at his desk and stared at the teacher, without actually hearing or seeing her. He knew that at this very moment, his parents were picking Joe up to bring him home and he was terrified about that.

When he got home from school, his brother would be there… and then what? So far, no one had pressed Joe very much about what he recalled from that horrible day, and Frank wondered if his brother even remembered anything.

But what were even more disturbing to the older boy were his own conflicted emotions over his brother.

While he wasn't _trying_ to be mean to Joe, whenever he thought about his behavior so far, Frank knew he was being so. And that made him very uncomfortable – a feeling he enjoyed even less.

Once again Phil, Chet and Tony were great about it and listened when he did talk about it – which was rare – and they didn't press him when he didn't; although both Chet and Tony were anxious to see Joe again.

But because of their loyalty to Frank and everything he had been through, they never asked about Joe or went over to see him yet.

Frank loved his younger brother. That was not the problem.

The problem was he was terrified to admit that he still cared or to show Joe any affection because he didn't want to open up old wounds or ever be hurt like that again. But still no matter how much he tried to ignore it, he felt a growing guilt over his brother… but he couldn't do it.

He could not be there for Joe.

------

"Joe's coming home today", Frank announced to his friends at lunchtime. In addition to Phil, Chet and Tony, Frank's longtime girlfriend, Callie Shaw, and her best friend, Iola Morton, were sitting with them.

"No way", Chet said quietly, knowing how hard this whole thing was on Frank.

"Yeah, way", Frank said pushing his food away without eating any.

"Is he coming back to school?" pretty brunette Iola wondered. She didn't remember a whole lot about Joe as he hadn't been to their house much before the accident. However, her curiosity about the boy who had lain so still and silent for six years in Frank's house was boundless. And if her memory served her correct, she had thought he was kind of cute back then.

Frank just shrugged, "I don't know." He felt a bit uncomfortable admitting that because in all honesty he never asked his parents anything about Joe. It was easier to not care that way.

"Uh oh", Phil said, interrupting Frank, "Here's trouble."

The dark haired boy turned around and frowned. Phil was right.

Coming towards them was about the last person Frank wanted to see right now – Alan "Biff" Hooper.

18-year-old Biff Hooper had been Joe's best friend before the coma. Although he was older then Joe, they were in the same grade and had become fast friends when they met in grade one.

But after the coma Biff had stopped coming around after he and Frank had words over an angry comment Frank had made about the unconscious Joe. And things had never been the same.

Biff usually just snorted and left whenever Frank was around. So the dark haired boy was surprised to see Biff coming right towards him.

The older Hardy sighed and stood up when he saw the angry look on the muscular teen's face.

Biff stopped in front of Frank and said heatedly, "So when were you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?" Frank asked tiredly, his back going up immediately.

"That Joe was awake", Biff spat, "or do you think it's funny that I overhear it in the bathroom?"

Frank paused. It had actually not occurred to him to tell Biff and he felt a bit embarrassed about that. Just because _they_ had fought Biff and Joe had been very close and he should have been told.

_Almost as close as we used to be_, Frank thought and surprised himself when a twinge of sadness got past his well constructed emotional shield.

But he shut it down immediately – _can't get hurt again_, he reminded himself before he shrugged and answered, "Well what difference does it make? You know about it now."

Biff's face reddened, "_What difference_? Frank, Joe is my best friend! I deserved to know. I want help him!" he paused and added, "And just how long has he been awake?"

Frank snorted, "He _was_ your best friend six years ago. A lot has changed since then, Hooper."

Biff was stung by the amount of venom in Frank's voice but he pressed, "How long Frank?"

Without batting an eye, Frank said, "Six weeks."

The face that was so red only moments before paled as Biff actually took a step back and said incredulously, "_Six weeks_? He's been awake for six weeks and I'm only just hearing about it now?" Frank didn't say anything and Biff snorted softly, "I'm going to see him."

Frank shook his head, "Don't."

Biff's face reddened again as he said coldly, "Excuse me Frank, but unlike you I'm still glad that Joe survived. And no one… least of all you, is going to stop me from seeing him!"

The dark haired boy sighed impatiently, "That's not it. Don't go because Joe isn't ready yet."

"What do you mean 'isn't ready yet?' I don't care what's wrong with him; he's still my best friend! And friends don't turn their backs on friends!"

Frank knew the words were supposed to hurt and they did. He actually winced but ignored the remark. "That's not what I meant either. Joe is okay mentally. However, he still thinks he's 11 years old. When he saw me, he got pretty upset so I just don't know if he's ready to see you yet-" He turned to his other friends, "or any of you guys yet. Dad and Mom are only just picking him up today. So I don't know honestly."

"When then?" Biff demanded impatiently. He wanted to see Joe again, desperately. He missed his best friend terribly, even after all this time.

"I don't know", Frank admitted and was once again nagged by a twinge of guilt that he tried to ignore, "Call my Mom later. She might have a better idea."

Biff seemed placated by this, for now, and turned to leave. But then he sighed and turned back to Frank, "That's great Frank. It really is, "his eyes were shining, "I'm so glad he's back… even as an 11 year old. This is just so great!" And then he turned away again and left.

tbc


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks again for the wonderful reviews! Here is the next chapter. Only 3 to go!

**The Longest Sleep**

**Chapter 5**

"What?" the man said incredulously, "You can't be serious!"

"I've never been more serious of anything in my life", admitted the second man as he chain-smoked his way through a package of Camels, "the kid's out of the coma."

"Does he remember anything?" the first man asked.

"Don't know", the smoker admitted, "he's probably brain damaged but I don't think we can risk it. I know for a fact he saw my face just before we hit him. I just don't know if he will remember it or not."

The chain smoker added, "I do remember thinking 'man that kid's eyes are awfully wide'."

"Hmmm", said the first man, "it might have only been a fleeting glimpse before you got your mask on… and he might be brain damaged… but damn it, he's Hardy's kid so we gotta make sure he don't remember anything permanently!"

"Call Gareth, we gotta set something up… again," the first said after another moment.

The smoker smiled, "Do I get to play with him too?"

The first man got a sick look on his face as he rolled his eyes, "We'll see. Let's talk to Gareth first."

------

Joe Hardy picked up his favorite Spiderman comic book, flipped through it for a moment before tossing it back down on his bed. _What do 17 year olds do_? He wondered, _I'm sure they don't read baby comic books._

He wanted to ask his brother but he was sure Frank wouldn't tell him… if he even spoke to him at all.

The past 24 hours had been hell. Frank came home after school and had barely said two words to Joe.

It was now Saturday afternoon and the younger boy was bored out of his mind.

His dad had got called out of town during the night and their mom was downstairs doing stuff. Joe had gone upstairs and had been hanging out in his room since breakfast. It was now only 10 AM and he was definitely bored out of his mind.

Joe could hear Frank in his room and went to stand in the doorway of their shared bathroom and watched him quietly for a while.

He wanted to run, jump on Frank's bed like he used to, and ask what was up. But he knew he couldn't do that anymore. Frank was a stranger to him now and Joe was so confused, it hurt.

Joe's memories, although six years old now, were only six weeks old for him.

_It was only weeks ago that he and Frank had played Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn down by the little creek… it was only a month and a half ago since they had camped out in the backyard and Joe had gotten so scared by one of Frank's ghost stories that their father had ended up having to stay out there with them…it was only two months ago that Frank had rescued Joe from two bigger kids who thought it would be funny to toss the younger boy into a garbage bin…_

But it was six years ago to everyone else.

Joe wanted to ask Frank why he hated him but he was afraid to. He was terrified of what Frank's answer would be.

If the older boy knew his brother was watching him, he gave no indication and after a while the gloomy teen went back to his own room. He couldn't sit still anymore though and started rummaging through his closet for something warm to wear.

Everyday for the past few weeks, Joe had been physically active and his body was demanding something more from him right now – he had a lot of energy to burn.

His mother had bought him a whole new wardrobe and Joe grabbed the first warm hooded sweatshirt he saw. It was black with a "01" on the front. Pulling it on over his head, the teen grabbed a pair of new white sneakers and slipped them over his socks as well.

Sighing he remembered to put sunscreen on his face, grabbed his sunglasses and then left the room.

He needed to get out.

------

Laura Hardy was alarmed when she saw her despondent son. Her heart ached for the pain she saw so clearly etched on his youthful face, "Joey… I mean Joe. What are you doing?"

Joe smiled at her. It was still a battle for his mom to drop the babyish 'y' from his name, but right now his soul craved it – he needed to be babied so he smiled shyly at the petit blond and said, "S'okay Mom. You can call me Joey again… In fact I think I like it."

He saw her smile and her lip quivered suspiciously.

_Oh man_, he thought, _I hate it when Mom cries_.

Needing even worse to get out for a while now, he said, "I'm going for a walk. I need to keep up with my exercise," he added seeing she was about to protest. And as he suspected, she stopped whatever she was about to say and said instead, "I'll ask Frank-"

Joe cut her off, "Don't bother Mom, he's too busy for me. I'll be okay. The neighborhood hasn't changed that much."

Laura couldn't see the pain in his eyes but she sure heard it in his voice and her heart twisted for him. Both she and Fenton had spoken to Frank over his seeming indifference to his brother and while they understood why he was acting like this, they both felt it wasn't right.

Joe reminded him to much of the pain he'd worked so hard to get past. But the way he was acting was still wrong.

While he hadn't been assaulted, Joe had something else taken from him that day. And he had an equally uphill battle ahead of him.

Laura even saw what his own behavior was doing to Frank, and wished he'd realize that no matter how hard he tried to deny it, he couldn't change the fundamental truth – he needed Joe and until he realized this, he would never truly heal.

He'd just become a bitter shell.

------

Joe walked for a couple of blocks until he came to a small two story duplex and he stood on the sidewalk and stared at it. The house hadn't really changed and that was deceptive, because he knew the people inside it had.

He wondered briefly why Biff hadn't come to see him and then he sighed. Maybe he, like Frank, was angry at him too.

Joe turned to leave when he heard a tentative voice, "Joe?"

Turning back he saw a tall, extremely muscular youth with close cropped blond hair and a hard edged jaw. But then he looked into the pale blue eyes and saw past the physical changes and recognized the boy inside the young man, "Biff?"

And then he was momentarily startled and stiffened briefly as Biff quickly crossed the distance between them and grabbed him in a tight hug. The great frame shook as the muscular youth said, "Oh Joe! Man, I've missed you!"

Joe let himself be hugged and returned it. Inside it helped fill some small part of his need to be comforted. Joe felt guilty, though, because all the time he was wishing it was Frank being this enthusiastic.

After a bit, the friends separated and Joe took off his glasses and smiled at his best friend, "Wow Biffster, you're huge!"

Biff burst out laughing as he sucked in the sight of his friend, "You look great, Joe!"

Joe blushed, inwardly very pleased by the compliment as he was working so hard, "Thanks."

"What are you doing here?" the bigger teen asked as he led Joe into his house knowing how happy his parents were going to be to see their impromptu visitor, "Not that I'm complaining mind you? Man kid, I've missed you!"

"Me too", Joe sighed and then went on to explain what'd been going on since he woke up. It was almost an hour later before he stopped talking and he blushed again, "Sorry Biff. I didn't mean to keep going on like that." He sipped some of the hot chocolate that Mrs. Hooper had made him once she had finally let him out of her ecstatic embrace.

Biff smiled gently, "Joe, I'm glad you did. You can't keep that kind of stuff bottled up. Hell I think if Frank did that once and while, he wouldn't be so uptight."

Frank. At the mention of his brother's name, Joe asked the burning question no one wanted him too. He'd asked both his parents but they had just brushed him off, saying it was just an adjustment for everyone. But heck, it'd been six weeks – Frank should have adjusted by now.

"Biff, what's up with Frank? Sometimes I think he hates me. Did I do something wrong?"

Biff's face grew pale. Like their other friends, while he didn't know 100% what had happened, he had his suspicions. And between snippets of conversation, innuendo and then a maturing mind, he'd pretty much figured it out. But it wasn't his place to tell, especially not to the little kid who was trying to fit into his new big kid body.

"Joe, what do you remember about that day? The day of the accident?"

Joe shook his head miserably, "You know Dad asked me the same question the day after I was taken to the hospital…" he paused and sighed, "but that's it… I don't remember much at all. The last thing I do remember was riding home with Frank and thinking how much I hated riding on the road. Nothing else after that. Dad told me I was hit by a van. But I don't remember it at all." He scratched his head, "Maybe that's a good thing…"

"Maybe", mused Biff but then Joe continued,

"Although Dad didn't seem to think so."

"What do you mean?" Biff asked wishing he had paid more attention back then to the other stuff going on so he could provide Joe with further insight.

"Well he kept asking me if I was sure I didn't recall anything else and when I said 'no', he got a sad look on his face… disappointed more then sad actually. And he said 'that's too bad' but then he changed the subject and I figured he didn't want to talk about it."

Biff saw the confusion so clearly in the vivid blue eyes and was treated to a small glimpse of the hell Joe must be going through. _And then to feel like his brother hated him and his father was disappointed in him_… Biff couldn't let his friend anguish like that. He had to say something.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**The Longest Sleep**

**Chapter 6**

"Joe", Biff asked carefully, "did you ask your Dad what happened after you were knocked out?"

The younger teen shook his head and Biff continued, "Well Frank was with you… did you ask if he got hurt or anything?" That was as much as the older teen could give him. Joe would need to figure out the rest on his own.

"No", Joe stared slowly and then his eyes widened, "oh my gosh… No! I didn't! That's it, isn't it? Frank got hurt and he is blaming me for not being able to help him. Oh no! No wonder he hates me!"

"Joe", Biff said to his increasingly agitated friend, "I don't think Frank hates you… in fact I know he doesn't… but I do think he is still pretty hurt over what happened and your being awake is just reminding him about it." He was now kicking himself for saying anything as he could see how upset Joe was becoming.

Joe thought about it but it just made him feel worst and he confided miserably in his friend, "Biff sometimes I think life would have been a lot simpler for everyone if… if I didn't wake or…or…"

Biff grabbed him by the shoulders as he admonished sternly, "Don't you dare say it, Joe Hardy. I, for one, am damn happy that you did not die."

"What about Frank?" Joe whispered and was embarrassed as he fought to keep his tears in check. He _did not_ want to blubber like a baby in front of Biff.

"Yes", Biff said without hesitation. Deep down he knew that Frank was glad too… even if didn't realize it yet.

"I gotta go", Joe said pulling away from his friend. He needed to get away from here.

Biff seemed to understand and patted him on the arm as the younger boy started out the door, "It's going to be okay, Joe."

"I know", Joe gave a sad smile. "I have to believe that, Biff, because that hope is all I have left."

And then he turned his back and hurried down the front steps.

------

By the time Joe got home, he was emotionally exhausted but had decided that it was time to talk to Frank. He would make his brother talk to him if he had to sit on him to do it.

Now to an 11-year-old, Frank looked huge, but armed with his own bigger body, Joe figured he could at least give the older teen a run for his money.

Barreling upstairs, the blond swung the bedroom door open, startling Frank who had just come out of the bathroom.

"Sheesh Joe, "Frank said coldly, "we knock in this house."

"Cut the crap", Joe said angrily – he figured he could use that word without too much trouble as he was, after all, older now, "since when did we ever knock on each other's doors?"

"Things have changed", Frank said as he tried to push pass his brother. If Joe was in his room, then he was going to leave but Joe crossed his arms in a trademark defiant move and shot back,

"Yeah so I've been told… and seen. You know I'm a bit mixed up but I'm not stupid, Frank. And you never used to treat me this way so what's going on now?"

Frank felt himself pale – he hadn't expected this but then he smiled wryly realizing that he should have. This was textbook Joe – not very subtle; attack head on like a bulldog.

But Joe misread the smile and deflated, "You think this is funny? That I'm so mixed up I don't know where the heck I'm supposed to fit in anymore?"

"No", Frank finally said, "I actually find less humor in this then you do. Just trust me on this one, okay?" Once again he tried to get by and once again his younger brother blocked him.

Frank did not want to get into a physical confrontation with Joe. He was too old for duking out his problems now. But as he regarded the petulant, determined kid standing in front of him, he sighed. He might be too old but Joe wasn't.

The body could fool you, but once you looked into his anguished blue eyes, you'd see the truth – a very scared little boy, still innocent and oh so naive.

_I used to be that once, _Frank thought bitterly… and then Joe threw him a curve ball, "What happened after I was hit Frank? What happened to you?"

Frank felt as if all the air was suddenly sucked out of the room – this was what he had been terrified of; Joe wanted to know the truth.

"Frank… what happened?" Joe persisted, his eyes searching the darker ones that turned away.

Frank's jaw tightened, "Get out of my way, Joe." He needed out of this room and away from his brother.

"What happened?" Joe wouldn't move. Inside he was shaking and terrified but this was too important. He wanted his brother back and Joe was willing to tread this dangerous ground if that was what it would take to find him.

"Move." Frank was getting angry now. The shock of the question was wearing off.

But Joe, stubborn to the bitter end, demanded, "What happened?"

Frank tried to push Joe out of the way and was surprised when his brother resisted, "Out of my way NOW!"

"NO!" Joe shouted back as the shove escalated into a scuffle, "What did they do to you?"

Frank froze, his mind throwing painful, vivid flashbacks at him. Finally he spoke and when he did, his voice was lethal, "Nothing _you_ would understand."

Joe started trembling. He had never heard Frank sound like that before and a knot in his stomach warned him to stop now, but he couldn't, "Try me Frank… remember me? Joe? Your little brother? We used to be able to tell each other anything! What happened?"

Hard brown eyes clashed with earnest blue ones and Frank said with an unforeseen malice that he had not known he could ever possess, "You never woke up." Frank continued unable to stop the rage even as Joe shrunk back from him until it was the older boy who prevented Joe from leaving, "I went through hell and back… I suffered nightmares… I went through counseling… I healed. All by myself. I needed you Joe, just to be there… just to talk to… just to tell me that everything would be all right and that you still loved me. But you took the easy way out… you left your damned body to mock me and torture me everyday – but you went away!"

Frank was oblivious to the look on his brother's face as he continued; "You slept. And now that I'm finally over all that crap, you're back and you want everything to be the same as it was six years ago. Well reality check, _baby_ brother… I don't want that!"

Joe stood frozen in shock and then with a mighty shove, he bolted past Frank, down the stairs and out the door. _I don't want this_, he sobbed as he ran… _I don't want this at all…_

-----

Frank was rooted to the spot long after Joe left. He felt horrible that he had lost control; horrible that he had said those things to Joe; and horrible because he felt better.

Emotionally drained, yes, but at the same time he felt as if a bit of the weight he had been carrying had been lifted. And then he remembered the look on his younger brother's face just before he bolted… and sinking down on his bed, Frank buried his face in his hands and cried.

Oh god, how he loved that kid… ------

Joe ran.

He had no idea where he was going but he just needed to get away.

And then he stopped, in shock, as he realized where his mad flight had taken him. It was a part of the road where there were no houses for a block.

Just shrubs and trees on both sides of the road.

_Oh my gosh, _he thought as he stood there, _this is where it happened!_

Taking off his sunglasses, Joe crouched down, and through blurry eyes, he touched the pavement and flashed back to that day…

_Frank was riding a head of him. They had been side by side until they got on the road and then they had to ride single file. As usual, Frank was riding first._

Joe could almost feel his bicycle beneath him as he closed his eyes… he could almost hear the steady squeak of the wheels as he rode…

_Frank glanced back… __probably to remind him to watch for traffic… __and then Frank's face changed to a look of horror and he shouted "JOE!" _

_Joe looked behind him and… _

Opening his eyes, the teen glanced around him with the memory and was paralyzed with shock as for one moment his mind could not understand… it was as if it were happening again as a dark blue van with tinted windows screeched to a halt behind him.

And then a spike of fear shot through Joe – _it __was__! _

Dropping his sunglasses, the boy ran but the few seconds' delay cost him dearly –

Two men bolted out of the side of the van and tore off after him.

"HELP!" Joe screamed as he tried to outrun his pursuers but he was already exhausted from his emotion filled flight from Frank, and was no match for the men.

"HELP!" he managed one more time before he was tackled and something sickly sweet on a cloth, shoved into his face.

And then the world became dark.

**tbc**


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you for all your wonderful comments on this story. Sorry about the evil cliffie last chapter, but it had to be done. One chapter - epilogue - left afte this so I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

**The Longest Sleep**

**Chapter 7**

The sound of someone pounding on the front door woke Frank. After his emotional meltdown, he had fallen asleep on his bed. His mom had gone to the grocery store earlier having missed Joe's dramatic exit, so Frank figured it was probably Joe, locked out of the house.

He was surprised when he opened the door and saw Officer Con Riley standing on the front step.

"Con?" he said, still a bit groggy from sleep. He had become good friends with the officer over the past couple of years, cemented by the time he spent at the police station this summer while doing grunt work for his father.

The officer dispensed with the formalities, "Frank, is your brother home?"

A bit confused by the question, Frank started to say 'no' but then realized Joe could have come home while he was asleep.

"Hold on", he said instead and quickly went upstairs to check and then said, "No, not yet", a few minutes later when he didn't find Joe in his room. "Why?"

Frank's hair stood up on the back of his neck when he heard the officer sigh, and then Con pulled out a small evidence bag from his jacket pocket and passed it to the teen, "Do you recognize these?"

The dark haired youth started to shake his head but then remembered that Joe wore sunglasses to help his eyes adjust to direct sunlight again. He examined the glasses a bit more closely then admitted, "They look like the kind Joe wears. Con, what's going on?"

The officer hated what he had to tell Frank and wished Fenton was home instead, "Frank… Mrs. Murphy on Tennyson Road called in a kidnapping and we think it was Joe."

"What?" Frank suddenly felt his knees grow weak and he would have fallen if Con had not caught him. He helped the teen to the couch and waited until he was sitting down before he continued. "A blond haired teen, wearing a black hooded sweatshirt was grabbed by two guys and dragged into a dark, possibly black or blue, panel van with tinted windows on the vacant part of Tennyson Road."

Con looked at the white-faced youth, "He managed to yell for help but the van was gone before anyone could do anything."

Frank started to hyperventilate. The details were too similar –

The whole experience washed over him again… only this time it was Joe in his place.

_His little brother… _

_The kid he loved more then his own life… _

And then he thought about how he'd been treating Joe since the coma and, more especially, the last time he had seen him.

_Ohmygod, _he thought, _I've forgotten how much he means to me… and now…and now…_

His dark eyes flashed intensely as he said to Con, his voice strong with conviction, "They can't have him Con. We have to get him back NOW!"

------

Frank's convertible tore up the Bayport streets. He knew he didn't have time to waste; he needed to find Joe now before it was too late. If it wasn't already.

"Hang on bro," he said through clenched teeth, "I'm coming for you."

He knew the van was probably driving around and was praying for some good old-fashioned dumb luck to find it. He had already gotten Tony, Phil, Chet, and Biff searching in their own vehicles.

Frank had called Biff first.

Racing towards the marina, the older Hardy boy knew that this time of year it was a private place to do what they wanted, and then easily dispose of the body.

_They messed up with me, _he thought angrily, he'd still been alive when they dumped him; _they won't make the same mistake with Joe. _

------

Joe's head was pounding and he felt sick to his stomach as the chloroform wore off. He moaned inadvertently and heard a man laugh, "Well it seems our little toy is awake. Ready to play, boys?"

The teen felt someone grab him but then another voice stopped it, "Hold up, this one's being done a little different. We need to get this van out of sight first. We don't have the same luxury we did with his brother."

Joe shivered, although he had no idea what they were talking about.

He realized he was lying on the floor of a van and that he wasn't bound at all.

A man sat on either side of him on a small ledge, and he felt a growing terror at the way they kept looking at him – especially the one man who was chain-smoking his way through a package of cigarettes.

A third man was driving.

Joe stared at the cigarette smoker and in a painful flash of memory knew exactly who he was.

These were the men who had run him down six years ago – he had seen this man for one brief moment before the guy had gotten a mask on and the van had struck him. Joe glanced away, not wanting the smoker to realize he had recognized him.

A few minutes later thought, he surprised himself when he heard his own voice asking, "What did you do to my brother?"

The chain smoker leered, impressed by the kid's bravado, "Impatient are we? Let's just say we had a very good time with your brother and in about ten minutes, we are going to have an even better time with you." He leaned closer and Joe shrank away instinctively, as the smoker reached out and touched his hair, "I always did prefer blonds."

And then the man drew back his fist and struck him hard in the face making the teen see stars as he fought to stay conscious.

Joe knew one thing – he needed to get out of there… now.

------

Frank spotted the van. He knew it in his heart that it was the right one. Quickly he dialed the police station and called it in.

Too angry to be affected by what had happened to himself, Frank was focused on making sure it didn't happen to his little brother.

He thought about blowing his horn to let them know he was behind them, and hopefully distract them from Joe – but then decided against it.

They would probably just kill Joe outright then. So instead he tailed them until the police could set up the roadblock.

_For the love of god, _Frank mouthed silently, _hurry…_

------

Joe had one shot. He knew it and even then, he also knew it would probably just get him killed. But he to try.

Death would be infinitely more welcome then whatever these men were planning. He still wasn't sure what that was, but they told him that even Frank would be envious… and that sent chills down his spine.

Maybe if he didn't think Frank hated him, he might have thought differently; might have come up with a different plan. But instead he just prayed this would work.

There was a door at the back of the van and Joe just needed to wait for the perfect opportunity, and then he was going to go out it.

_Body, don't fail me now, _he thought, and then hoped that whatever happened this time, he didn't linger in a coma and destroy what was left of his family.

_Let me live or let me die_, the boy thought, _I'll accept __nothing in between…_.

------

"_We see them,"_ Con confirmed.

Frank knew he shouldn't be driving and talking on the cell phone at the same time, but this was a matter of life and death – Joe's.

At that same moment, the driver of the van saw the roadblock and slammed on his brakes.

------

Joe recovered from the sudden stop first as he was already on the floor, and before the other two men realized what he was going to do, he made a dive for the back door, opened it and tumbled out!

------

Frank slammed on his brakes as the van stopped, and then before the other vehicle had even finished rocking, the back door swung open-

"JOE!" he yelled when he saw his brother's body tumble out the door and hit the pavement, hard. He was out of the car and running towards him as another man burst out of the back door.

"NO!" Frank yelled as he launched himself at the chain-smoker when the man pulled a gun and brought it up to fire at his dazed brother.

The dark haired boy knocked the man back against the van and the shot went wild. And then he paused as he stared into the face of the man who had raped him six years ago.

But instead of fear paralyzing him, anger propelled him and he drove his fist into the chain smoker's stomach and followed up with a right-left combination.

Somewhere behind him, the enraged teen could hear shouting and was aware that the police was manhandling the driver, but he was too intent on this one who had destroyed him that day.

But then Frank heard a soft gasp and he turned and froze.

The second man in the back of the van with Joe, had also come out the back door while Frank was busy with the smoker, and he was holding the younger boy by his hair, so that Joe was forced to kneel in front of him, facing Frank.

He had a gun firmly pressed to the back of Joe's skull.

"Your choice", the man growled, "You can have your revenge… or your brother."

Joe closed his eyes and let out a shuddering sigh; his face paled and his body trembled. He knew what his brother would chose, and he wanted to let Frank know that he understood and he didn't hate him for it.

The younger boy still didn't know for sure what the men had done to Frank but he now had his suspicions, and he was heartsick that he hadn't been there for Frank. It wasn't his choice but it was still what happened.

He had slept… oblivious to Frank's anguish.

_What kind of brother am I?_ He asked himself.

"It's o-okay", Joe gasped trying to keep his voice from breaking even as a tear betrayed his bravado. "I-I sucked as a brother anyway."

Then giving Frank an understanding smile, Joe closed his eyes, waited for the inevitable…

And wondered if death would be anything like the coma.

tbc


	8. Chapter 8

Well, yippy, finally - here it is. The final chapter and epilogue. I hope you enjoy it. Warning: much mush ahead :P Thank you for all your support and reviews, I enjoyed hearing what you thought.

**The Longest Sleep**

**Chapter 8**

Immediately Frank stepped away from the chain-smoker.

Joe was right, there was no choice. There never was.

And then the man holding Joe started to laugh as he squeezed the trigger –

"NOOO!" Frank screamed –

And then Biff Hooper was there, tackling the gunman and knocking the gun out of his hands just as it went off, and the bullet flew harmlessly into the side of the van!

Biff had arrived just in time to see the standoff and immediately sprang into action.

Frank saw him locked in a struggle with the man but knew the muscular youth could take care of himself. He, himself, had something else to take care of first.

Joe was still kneeling on the ground but his head was bowed low and he was quietly sobbing, his whole body shaking in distress. In all honesty, he had been looking forward to the release that death would bring and he wasn't sure how he was feeling to still be alive.

Frank crouched down in front of his brother and said softly, "Joe?"

The younger teen didn't look at him.

"Joe?" he tried again but still Joe didn't look up.

Swallowing back the emotion, Frank reached out and gently tilted up the quivering chin, forcing Joe to look at him as he whispered, "Oh bro…. I am so sorry…"

Despairing blue eyes finally met the concerned brown ones and then Frank grabbed his younger brother in a tight hug and held him.

"It's- it's okay…" he tried to say but he couldn't as he felt Joe's arm slip around his back and then Joe was holding onto him tightly, as he buried his face in his brother's chest and cried openly, no longer caring who heard or saw him.

And the brothers stayed that way, locked in a desperate embrace as they finally let everything that they had been holding in, out; drawing from each other the comfort that they each so desperately needed.

Re-forging the bond that had been stretched so thin, each feared it had been broken. While around them the police cuffed the other two men and Biff Hooper stood guard, his own eyes shining as he watched the healing begin.

It was still a long road ahead, but with each other, and the support of their family and friends, Biff knew that Frank would truly get past what happened that dreadful day and they would help Joe ease into his new self.

Biff was saddened when he thought about those years that Joe had lost, and he doubted his best friend would ever lose the childish innocence that early adolescence usually burned out, but he already could see that this would also be a cherished gift. And as he caught Frank's gaze and saw the fierce protectiveness blazing in his dark eyes, Biff smiled and looked away. _The Hardy brothers were back_.

------

By the time the brothers got home, it was late. Frank had insisted that Joe go to the hospital and be checked out, and the younger teen didn't protest too much – although he really did not want to go.

But he was just too happy to have Frank fussing over him again, making his new world a whole heck lot less scary.

Other then a nasty bruise on his arm and shoulder from the impact of hitting the road, Joe did have a sprained wrist and had to contend with Frank's look of 'see I told you' when the older boy saw the bandage. Joe just rolled his eyes and followed Frank out to his car.

"Hey", Joe grinned with sudden unexpected insight, "I'm old enough to get my license!"

Frank sighed as he unlocked the car door, "May the Saints preserve us." But then he flashed his younger brother a smile to let him know he didn't really mean it. Inwardly, Frank was proud of the kid and it felt good to show it.

------

Their mother was frantic when Officer Riley had dropped by to tell her what had happened but listened when he suggested she wait at home as the boys wouldn't be long at the hospital.

She insisted Joe go and get some rest and Frank noticed a stricken look briefly pass over his brother's face before the blond youth headed upstairs and he wondered what was wrong.

He waited a few minutes after Joe left and then followed him up. This time it was his turn to watch his brother, unnoticed from the bathroom, as Joe got ready to go lie down.

Frank had been relieved to find out the men hadn't had time to go through with their plans for Joe, but as he watched his brother he could tell something was still really bothering him.

Joe seemed to be getting agitated and when Frank saw him take out an almost empty bottle of pills and then fish one out, he decided he needed to find out what was going on.

He had never noticed Joe taking pills before but now that he had Frank couldn't just ignore it.

"Joe?" he started quietly watching as his brother jumped then smiled when he saw it was only Frank.

"Hey," the younger teen greeted, his tone, sheepish. "Sorry, I didn't see ya there."

"What's going on?" Frank indicated the pill in Joe's hand.

Jo stared down at it like he had no idea where it had come from. But he was too emotionally drained to try and make up any excuses especially since he'd just gotten his brother back, so he sighed and admitted, "Nothing. I just need them to sleep."

Frank was stunned, "What?" He felt even guiltier about his negligent behavior when Joe continued miserably.

"I'm," Joe took a deep breath and admitted, "I'm afraid to go to sleep. Sounds stupid, I know, but ever since the coma, I'm just terrified that the next time I close my eyes, I'll never wake up again." Expressive blue eyes tore through Frank, "Silly, huh?"

Immediately Frank crossed the distance between them and grabbed him in a fierce hug. He was surprised by his own actions - he hated physical contact – but this was _Joe_… and it felt right.

And he felt better doing it.

As he hugged his brother, he vowed, "You never have to afraid to go to sleep, bro, I promise." He pulled away from his brother and looked Joe in the face, "I'm so sorry for what a jerk I've been. Now_ that_ was silly… But from here on in, you're stuck with me, dude, whether you like it or not." And then he added softly, because he really needed to say it, "And, little brother, in case you're thinking anything else… I am so glad to have you back."

Joe sniffed, "Thanks, Frank." He put a warm hand on Frank's shoulder and smiled through wet eyes, "I've missed you so much too."

Then Frank felt a hitch in his chest when Joe squeezed his shoulder and added, "_Even when I slept_."

------

**6 Months Later:** Epilogue

"Come on, man, we're going to be late!" 17-year-old Joe Hardy yelled out to his older brother. "I'm not getting any younger here!"

"I can't believe you're going to let him drive," the 18-year-old groused to himself when he came out of the house and slid into the _passenger_ seat of the yellow convertible.

With each passing day, Frank was even more impressed with the drive and determination with which his younger brother tackled each new challenge; and today Joe was going back to school.

It had been a lot of work but the education department, and Joe's doctors, felt he was ready to go back as a high school junior; and although Joe knew it was going to be tough, as he still has a lot to catch up on, Frank and Phil had already promised to continue working with him, so that he could keep up.

So with the same unfaltering determination with which he had tackled his physical recovery, he faced his educational recovery as well. And armed with a beginners' permit, he was ready to drive to High School for the first time.

"Hey, do you think Dad'll let us help on a real case? Wouldn't that be cool?"

Joe's enthusiasm never failed to amaze his brother and Frank laughed, "Easy there little brother, let's tackle school and you getting your drivers license first, okay?"

"Okay", Joe said agreeably before becoming serious as he carefully maneuvered the car along the Bayport streets, "How am I doing Frank? _Really_? Do you think I'll pass my driving test tomorrow?"

Frank heard the apprehension in his brother's voice and smiled. His little brother was a natural behind the wheel – not that he would never admit it – so instead he teased, "Well as long as you can keep your trap shut."

Joe stuck out his tongue and the older boy laughed. The 11-year-old sometimes got the better of his maturing brother but Frank didn't mind it one bit.

"Do you think Chet's sister will be there?" Joe asked thinking of the pretty brunette.

Frank tried to keep a straight face at his brother's obvious infatuation with one, Iola Morton, "She usually is." And then as Joe expertly parked the car and prepared to get out, Frank reached across and grabbed his arm.

"Joe," his tone was very serious as his warm brown eyes caught and held the vibrant blue ones watching him, "If anyone gives you any trouble… and I mean _any_ trouble at all, you tell me okay? You're my little brother and I'm not going to let anyone pull any kind of crap with you, got it?"

Joe smiled, his heart warmed by the protective streak his brother was showing and he assured him, "I will. And thank."

"You never need to thank me for caring about you, bro", Frank said softly. "I'm just sorry that I made you doubt it for a while. And…" he really wanted to say this. "And I am very proud of you. Don't ever forget that, okay? You are amazing."

Joe smiled through blurring vision as he just nodded, not trusting his voice to speak. Instead he reached across and gave Frank a quick jab in the shoulder before he undid his seatbelt, opened the door and then hopped out. And for the first time since he had opened his eyes from the coma, Joe Hardy felt like he finally fit in, again.

He was really back.

------

Later that night, Frank finished his homework in Joe's room and stayed there until he was sure his brother was asleep.

He had started to do that when Joe confided his fear of sleeping. Some nights he read, some nights he did his homework. And some nights when the demons of trying to adjust threatened the child inside the young man, the older teen would lie down beside his brother and wrap himself around Joe until the younger Hardy fell asleep.

Closing his books, Frank started to go back to his own room but stopped. His own room just seemed so dark and far away right now… A sliver of chill raised goose bumps along Frank's bare arms and he scrubbed at them furiously. It wasn't cold in the room but what chilled him tonight had nothing to do with the temperature.

Turning around, he carefully eased himself into the bed and shifted towards the warmth that was his brother.

"Shh", he whispered when Joe stirred, "It's okay. Just me." And as Joe settled back down into a deep sleep again, Frank let out a shaky sigh. A lone tear tracked down his cheek and he whispered, "Thank you."

He stayed all night, his younger brother's closeness an emotional shield against Frank's own monsters this time, because this brotherhood thing? It went both ways.

And because some nights, Frank needed it too.

The End


End file.
